who did at least know the way.  Clement, with a poor old gouty echevin on his arm, struggled out, he knew not how, into one of the passages, where a fellow rushed at them, crying, ’Down with the Mazarins!’ but Clement knew by his voice that he was no soldier or bandit, but a foolish artisan, and at haphazard said:  ’Come, come, my good lad, none of this nonsense.  This gentleman will give you a crown if you will help him out.’

The man obeyed directly, muttering that he only did as others did; and when they had got out into the street, Clement, finding himself not far from the place where the lights and voices showed him that some one was in command, managed to get to the mercer’s shop with the poor old echevin, where he found M. de Beaufort, with his hair shining in the lamplight, his yellow scarf, and his long white feather, hanging over the features that were meant to be like an angel’s.  When Clement, in aftertimes, read the Puritan poet Milton’s paradise lost, he said he was sure that some of the faces of the fallen spirits in Pandemonium had that look of ruined beauty that he saw in the King of the Markets on that night.

Some of the town councilors who had got out sooner had gone to entreat the Duke of Orleans to stop the massacre, but he would Do nothing but whistle, and refer them to his nephew De Beaufort.  They were standing there, poor men, and he tapping his lip with his cane, stroking down his moustache, and listening to them with a sneer as they entreated him not to let their fellows perish.  And then among them stood up Clement, with his old echevin by his side.  He was resolved, he said, and began ’Son of Henri IV., will you see the people perish whom he loved from the bottom of his heart?  Yes, Monsieur, you inherit the charm by which he drew hearts after him, and was a true king of men!  Will you misuse that attraction to make them fly at one another’s throats?  In the name of the great Henri and his love for his people, I appeal to you to call off yonder assassins.’

He had so far prevailed that Beaufort muttered something about not knowing things had gone so far, and assured the magistrates round him of his protection.  He even went to the door and told some of his prime tools of agitation that it was enough, and that they might give the signal of recall; but whether things had gone too far, or whether he was not sincere, the tumult did not quiet down till midnight.  After all, the rogues had the worst of it, for two hundred bodies of theirs were picked up, and only three magistrates and twenty-five deputies, though a good many more were hurt.

Clement saw his old echevin safe home, left word at our house that he was unhurt, but did not come in; and at Maison Verdon, no one had even guessed what danger he was in, for all the attention of the household was spent on the wounded men, one of whom died that night.